


our last summer

by maiselocked



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on an ABBA Song, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Emily Prentiss is a lesbian, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Reader-Insert, Summer Love, slight sherlock/criminal minds crossover but nothing crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26078569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiselocked/pseuds/maiselocked
Summary: it was a hot summer in london, england when you met emily prentiss and fell in love with her. after late night rendezvous, drunken sex, and impulse trips to paris, she left with no explanation and a short goodbye note.three years later, you've been offered a job with the fbi in quantico, virginia. nobody told you that the woman you were so helplessly in love with would be working on the same case erin strauss had just assigned to you.
Relationships: Emily Prentiss & Reader, Emily Prentiss/Original Female Character(s), Emily Prentiss/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86





	our last summer

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably the fic that i've worked on the most and i really really hope you all love it and enjoy it. i'm super super proud of it. it's like my baby.
> 
> there's a slight mention of characters from sherlock (molly and greg) but its not a huge part of the plot. y/n just worked at scotland yard and is friends with molly.

May 3rd. You met Emily Prentiss in a small coffee shop when you accidentally spilled your coffee and the majority of it soaked her shoes and pants. You apologized profusely and ran to grab napkins to clean up the mess. You offered to buy her new pants and shoes. She just smiled and knelt down to help you clean the mess. “It’s okay,” she spoke in a sweet voice. You left with butterflies in your stomach and a pink blush on your cheeks. 

May 14th. You were sitting in the corner of the same coffee shop with files laid out in front of you. Greg Lestrade needed your expert opinion as a linguist and handwriting analyst on the newest case and the ambient noise of the coffee shop helped you focus. The sound of a chair squeaking at your table brought you out of your daze and Emily Prentiss was sitting in front of you. She asked what you were working on and then the two of you sat in the coffee shop for three hours. She gave you insight on the case. You talked about your life in London. You left with her phone number. 

June 8th. You and Emily went out for drinks and ended up getting a little more drunk than you had anticipated. The cab driver looked away when Emily Prentiss suddenly kissed you and you found yourself kissing her back. Emily threw money at the cab driver and the two of you stumbled out of the cab and somehow made your way into the bedroom of your apartment. She pushed you down on the bed and up, running her hands up your sides. She hovered above you and whispered, “You’re so beautiful,” then began unbuttoning your shirt. You left your apartment that morning with sunglasses on and a funny walk. 

July 1st. “Do you want to go to Paris with me for the weekend?” was the first thing out of Emily’s mouth when you opened your front door. You stared at her in shock and tried to think of something to say but couldn’t find anything. “I bought tickets a few weeks ago to this museum opening and I really think you’d enjoy it and you said a few nights ago you’d like to get out of London.” It was obvious there’d be no end to her rambling so you decided to cut her off and tell her you’d love to. You left your apartment the next Friday with a suitcase in your hand on the way to Paris. 

July 19th. Emily invited you over to her apartment on a Saturday night as a date. You put on the outfit you knew she loved and made your way there. The apartment was set to a dim lighting, the fireplace was going, music was playing softly in the background, the dining room was decorated with a bouquet of flowers and two small candles, and Emily was as beautiful as ever. The dinner was spectacular and afterwards, you helped her wash the dishes. While you were drying a cup, she asked you if you’d like to be her girlfriend. You smiled and said yes. You didn’t leave her apartment until the morning and had to call in late to work. 

August 1st. You woke up to the sound of harsh rain pelting your windows but it didn’t dampen your mood because you knew Emily would be coming over for the day to help you with a new case. You shuffled into the kitchen and began making yourself some coffee so you could actually get ready for the day but stopped when you saw a white piece of paper with writing on it sitting in front of the door. You picked it up out of curiosity but your heart dropped to your stomach when you read the contents of the note. All Emily Prentiss wrote was “I had to leave. I’m sorry. I won’t be back.” This time, she left. 

All of this happened three years ago. Three years ago, you experienced a true, gutting heartbreak. It wasn’t until a few days after she left that a friend of yours asked if you were in love with her that you realized you had fallen so quickly in love with Emily Prentiss and her departure didn’t affect the feelings you had for her in the slightest. 

For the next three years, you never saw Emily again. Sometimes, in passing, you’d see someone who resembled her and the rest of your day would be plagued with the thoughts of her. As much as you’d try to forget her, to hate her, to erase her from your memories, the feelings of love you had for her would resurface and all of your hard work would be all for naught. 

It was on a Sunday morning when you received a call from a woman named Erin Strauss from the FBI proposing a job with a higher pay and better benefits. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out if you said yes. Within three weeks, you had quit your job with the Scotland Yard (Greg Lestrade cried a little bit), found a good apartment in DC, packed up all of your belongings, and left London. 

On a warm Monday morning, you entered the FBI building and made your way up to Erin Strauss’s office. “Nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” the woman greeted when you walked into the room. She gestured towards a seat in front of her desk that you took. “Have you had any trouble moving from London to DC?” 

The two of you had a brief discussion about living in DC and working in the FBI before she stood up and led you to your new office. “I wish I could tell you that your first day would be purely introductions and getting settled in but unfortunately one of our units received a case that could use your help.”

“That’s no problem. It’s my job,” you said with a smile. 

“The Behavioral Analysis Unit received a case yesterday in Montclair concerning six homicides made to look like suicides and each has a note written in their own handwriting but we’d like for the expert to give the final look over. If you could head down to Aaron Hotchner’s office on floor six after you sit your stuff down, he’ll give you all of the details and I’m sure some of the agents can help get you around here.” 

You nodded to Erin Strauss and she left your office. You quickly hung up your jacket, picked up some materials you needed for the job and went in search of Aaron Hotchner. It wasn’t hard to find his office and you knocked softly at his door before he responded with a deep “Come in.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the new handwriting and linguistics expert here. Erin Strauss told me you had a case that needed my assistance and had me come to your office,” you explained to the man. A look of recognition came over him and he told you to sit in front of him. 

“I’m assuming she didn’t give you a full debriefing, hm?” He asked, pulling out a manila folder and handing it your way. You took it and started flipping through the papers and pictures inside. 

“This happen often?” you joked around. 

“If only you knew,” he responded. He sat his pen down and began explaining the case to you and asking if you needed anything for the job. “We have some other handwriting samples and some notes about the victims inside of the briefing room. You can meet the other agents in the unit while we’re there.”

The two of you exited his office and crossed the bullpen into the briefing room where three agents were sitting around a table, discussing the case. The three looked up then stood to greet you. 

“These are agents Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Dave Rossi,” Hotch introduced. They all came up and gave you a chorus of “hello” and “nice to meet you”. “Agent Prentiss and Dr. Reid are with the medical examiner right now but they should be arriving shortly.” 

Prentiss. Your head shot up at the all too familiar last name and a deep feeling of dread filled your entire body. It couldn’t have been _Emily_ Prentiss, right? The chances were incredibly low, or at least that's what you told yourself to ease your evergrowing anxiety. Immediately, you started busying yourself with the work in front of you and squashed all thoughts of Emily down as far as they could go. 

With the rest of the agents' help, you were able to find that the notes weren’t rushed or written in a time of anxiety. It seemed like they had been written prior to their deaths. This gave the team a new hypothesis that their unsub had been killing people who were planning on taking their own lives, hence why the notes were written earlier. You were going over the final note when you heard the voice of someone you had never thought you’d ever _ever_ see again and you wished that a hole would appear below you and you’d drop ten feet below the ground.

“The most recent victim was the only one to not have any defensive wounds on them but there was no evidence of any drug or paralytic used on them,” was what she said. What romantic words to hear after three years of not hearing anything from her. You never forgot what her voice sounded like but now it was almost overwhelming. 

You didn’t even notice that your hands were shaking almost violently and you felt short of breath. JJ must’ve noticed your panicked state because she put a hand on your back and gently asked if you were feeling okay. That seemed to set you off because you then felt your feet subconsciously shooting you up from the chair and out the door. 

The BAU stared from their spot in the briefing room. “Who’s that and why did they just run off?” asked Emily. She didn’t get a glimpse of your face but something about the way you moved and dressed reminded her of those times in London three years ago. It wasn’t until JJ explained who you were that it all clicked. “Holy shit,” she breathed out. “Holy shit!” she said louder before chasing after you. 

Everyone left in the room looked at each other with equally confused expressions. 

You just reached the elevator to take you back up to your office when you heard Emily calling out for you a few feet behind you. “Close, close, close, close,” you kept repeating as you abused the button in the elevator. You breathed out a sigh of relief when the doors started to close but then a hand shot out between the doors that stopped it from closing all the way. 

You had convinced yourself two years ago that you’d never see Emily again, that you’d never get closure or a goodbye or an explanation. It was easier to just give up hope than wait day after day for the woman you were so desperately in love with. But here you were. In an elevator in the Quantico, VA FBI headquarters, face-to-face with her. You felt nauseous. 

“Y/N?” She asked cautiously. The elevator doors finally closed but neither of you pushed the button to go up or down a floor. “Y/N.” 

You struggled to speak and when you did, your voice cracked. “I don’t want to talk to you.” 

Emily looked at you with a sad expression and felt tears pricking at her own eyes. She felt so guilty. So fucking guilty. She tried to live her life with no regrets but she never forgave herself for what she did to you and all those horrible feelings were returning. Seeing you so weak and upset hurt her deep down and she just wanted to reach out and hold you and make things okay and continue what you had that summer in London. 

She took a risky move and stepped closer to you but stopped when she saw you retreat further into yourself in the corner of the elevator. You wanted to get out of that elevator immediately but when you rushed up to the buttons to open the doors, Emily stepped in front of you so you couldn’t press them. 

“Em, please,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 

“Can you let me explain myself?” She tried. 

“I can’t do this right now. Move out of the way so I can leave. Tell them I got sick and had to go home. Please.” For the first time since you got in the elevator, you made eye contact with her. 

She looked down, back up at you, and nodded solemnly. “Okay. That’s okay.” She opened up the doors to the elevator and you were alone. It was probably bad to just leave work in the middle of the day especially considering it was your first day but hopefully Emily would vouch for you. It was the least she could do. Within ten minutes, you went up to your office, grabbed your things, and left for your apartment. 

“You mean to tell me that she-who-shall-not-be-named works in the FBI and you just somehow ended up working on a case that she was on too?” your friend from London, Molly Hooper, asked over a facetime call. 

“Yeah. I was just going over some notes and then she walked in and I ran away,” you told her before shoving a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. 

When you got home, you fell to your couch as sobs and loud cries wracked your body. You cried everything out for about an hour before deciding to call Molly who comforted you as best as she could 4,000 miles away. It all seemed so unreal and everything was still so raw. You wondered how you could go back to work tomorrow knowing the only person you’ve been in love with was in the same building as you. 

“And then she came into the lift and tried to explain why she left?”

“Yes.” 

“So why didn’t you let her? Isn’t an explanation what you’ve wanted this whole time?”

You thought about it for a moment. “I want an explanation but what if it makes things worse? What if she tells me she fell for someone else or she was on the run for murder?”

“I don’t think she’d be working in the FBI if she was a murderer,” Molly reassured you. 

“Yeah, I know but-” 

You were cut off by a loud knocking on the front door. “Hey, Molly, someone’s at my front door. I’ll call you back, okay?” 

You sat down your ice cream and pulled the heavy blanket off of your body and went to answer your front door. In front of you was Emily with a bouquet of lilacs and white roses.

You tried to put on a front like you weren’t just crying for the past four hours but the red eyes and sniffles didn’t really help. “How’d you get my address?” You asked first. 

She cleared her throat and shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Garcia gave it to me.” 

“What do you want?” was the next thing you asked. 

“Can I come in?” She asked. 

You sighed, considered your options and consequences but decided to move out of the door and let her inside. You shut the door behind her and followed her into the living room. She handed the bouquet of flowers to you. “I remember you liked the color purple. I don’t know if you still do but I passed by a flower shop on the way here and decided to get you some because you told me you loved receiving flowers.” 

You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach and the tiny smile that was on your face when you took the flowers and sat them on the kitchen counter. There was an awkward silence for a minute or two before you both spoke up simultaneously. 

“Why are you here?”

“I want to tell you why I left.” 

You led Emily to the couch where you sat on the opposite ends. She was fiddling with her fingers in her lap and avoiding your eyes. It was rare to see Emily so nervous and shy. 

“Okay. So...tell me,” you said. 

Emily took a deep breath in and started explaining. “Three years ago...I was a completely different person from who I am now. I couldn’t bring myself to commit to anything or, well, anyone. I just traveled a lot and went job to job and friend group to friend group. And I would make impulse decisions and leave places in the middle of the night. I didn’t expect to stay in London for more than a month but then I met you. I couldn’t bring myself to leave after I had just met someone so interesting and I became attached to you. I didn’t realize I was feeling anything other than platonic feelings for you until I watched some stupid romcom that was on TV. And I just thought it’d be like all of my other flings where we’d fool around some time and neither of us would really care if the other left. But then I asked you to be my girlfriend and I didn’t think you’d say yes but then you did. I realized that you had deep feelings for me. I didn’t want to leave but I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I had never fallen for someone. I was scared of ruining you or ruining the relationship and it all just kind of fell together when I got the opportunity for this job. I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave if I said a proper goodbye.” She wiped a stray tear that fell down her face then looked you in the eye. “I hate myself for what I did to you and I never forgot about you. I haven’t felt anything as strong and as genuine with anyone than I did with you. It took me so long to realize that I was in love with you. And I felt even worse when I realized you had fallen in love with me too.” 

You didn’t even notice that your tears had started back up again until a teardrop landed on your lip and you tasted the saltiness of it. Emily watched you carefully while you tried to process everything she had just told you. It was a lot and she understood your silence but it scared her. 

The first thing that you were able to make out of Emily’s speech was that she was in love with you just as much as you were in love with her. The next thing you understood was that she was just young and scared. Everyone is scared to be in love for the first time. It took you three minutes before you could find the words to say. “Emily, I...I love you so fucking much. It took me a year to be able to move on and I was just trying to get myself to hate you. But I don't hate you. I never did. And I would love to tell you that we can just move on and pretend like it didn’t happen and that we can be a happy couple with no flaws but I can’t right now. I know you understand.” 

“Yes, Y/N, I completely understand. I will wait for you, I will give you space, time, anything you need. I know that me leaving affected you and I can’t be mad at you for not being able to jump into anything. I don’t expect you to. But I want you to know I’ve grown and I’m not scared anymore. I love you and I’m here for you.”

You wiped the tears from your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and smiled at her. She smiled back. “I know I said I need time but can I ask one thing?” you said cautiously. 

“Of course you can.” 

“Can you kiss me and hold me? Like you used to do? Just for a bit?” 

Emily outstretched her arms and you scooted closer to her. She put a hand on your cheek and brought you in close then put her lips against yours. 

November 6th, three years later. Emily finally came back to you.


End file.
